


bitch theme

by Vomitrocious



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Boys Kissing, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Hurt No Comfort, I FUCKING FORGOT THAT TAG, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Rejection, Sad Saihara Shuichi, Self-Hatred, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomiting, What Have I Done, bruh i hate it here, well i mean rantaro is trying but hes a dumbass and isnt helping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 04:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26467369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vomitrocious/pseuds/Vomitrocious
Summary: The bile felt like acid rising, and rising until it finally spilled out of his lips into the water. He coughed, bones feeling brittle as he slumped further. He couldn’t seem to hold himself up, legs awkwardly placed under him to keep from slipping. He puked up more stomach acid, feeling his body give up under him. His eyes squeezed shut as he took in wheezing breaths, trying to take in air. Tears stung his eyes before falling over.“I’m so pathetic..” He whispered to himself.(In which Shuichi Saihara mourns like a bitch.)
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Saihara Shuichi, Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

The feeling of euphoria quickly crashed as Saihara woke up. His face has been smushed into his pillow, arms wrapped snugly around it. He groaned, glittering, golden eyes squinting open into the darkness. They scanned around the desolate room even though they were still heavily lidded. God, how long had he slept? He barely even remembered what he was dreaming about... He only recalled arms around his waist, a face nuzzling neck as they hugged him. A soft atmosphere but still somehow dreary from his fuzzy memory, something different than what he felt now. All that was left was an empty feeling. Like his stomach had dropped.

He felt nauseous. Saihara groaned, quickly sitting up and covering his mouth. He felt bile rise in his throat as he scrambled off the bed into the black, barren room. His head was still spinning from the backlash of sitting up so quickly. He ignored it in favour of hastily going into his bathroom, flicking on the lightswitch without hesitation and slumping over the toilet. He brushed his hair out of his face with a hand and sighed quietly. This is the third time this week that he’s had that dream.. He hated it.

He hated the feeling of Akamatsu’s arms around him, her soothing voice murmuring in his ears. Negative words. Hurtful ones. They hurt so much. He tried his hardest to save her, to help, and it was all for nothing. She was fucking dead because of him. He’s supposed to be the ultimate detective, not a wimp who can’t even save his dear friend. 

That wasn’t the only thing. She had killed the only other person who seemed to care for him. Of course, Ouma wasn’t the brightest, but goddamn that was all he had left. Now he had nothing. Nothing but the memories and nightmares. Both of them whispering the worst words imaginable into him. It seeped into his ears, leeching to his brain and sticking. He couldn’t seem to let it all go. 

The bile felt like acid rising, and rising until it finally spilled out of his lips into the water. He coughed, bones feeling brittle as he slumped further. He couldn’t seem to hold himself up, legs awkwardly placed under him to keep from slipping. He puked up more stomach acid, feeling his body give up under him. His eyes squeezed shut as he took in wheezing breaths, trying to take in air. Tears stung his eyes before falling over.

“I’m so pathetic..” He whispered to himself, tears not seeming to stop. He shakily wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked down at the green mixed with yellow that floated in the water, grimacing. He should’ve eaten something, but his depressive episodes left him not even getting out of bed half the time. Why couldn’t this all just be over? He didn’t want to live like this. Not stuck in a killing game with two of his closest friends dead. That thought made him sob quietly, head leaning against the seat. 

He fucking hated it here. 

Still, he forced himself to get up on shaky legs, one hand still on the seat to support himself. He calmed down his breathing for a moment, trying to stop the buzzing in his mind. Once he got up and made sure he was steady he took a moment to rub at his eyes, wiping the tears away. He had to get food soon or later, and he didn't want to be looking like a total slob. He walked over to the sink, looking at himself with hazy eyes. He looked disgusting. He sighed at his thoughts, turning on the faucet and washing off his face quickly and drying it with a towel. That’s a little progress at least. 

He walked back into his dark room and turned on the light as well, rolling his eyes slightly at the mess. Clothes were scattered everywhere, along with a few bottles of alcohol and garbage. Whatever. He went to get dressed in his usual outfit, humming thoughtfully at it. He acted as if he wasn’t pitifully slumped over his toilet just a minute ago. He shook his head at the thought, not bothering to clean the mess. It could wait. He sighed, placing his hat on his head and fixing it carefully.

There’s no going back now. His stomach growled almost uncontrollably, making him fidget uncomfortably. Right. He had to get food. The morning announcement had gone off a while ago, letting Shuichi know that everyone was going to be in the cafeteria for breakfast. He frowned, realizing that this wouldn’t turn out well. He had been avoiding them for a reason, but breakfast wasn’t served at any other time. 

He blew a strand of hair out of his eyes before hesitantly opening his dorm door. He inhaled deeply and made his way to the cafeteria, fidgeting every now and then with his hands. He didn't want to do this. At all. But he didn't really have a choice. He sighed softly, opening the cafeteria doors. 

It was almost completely silent, save for Iruma making inappropriate jokes to Kiibo like usual. It didn't seem the same, the atmosphere dull as nobody else talked amongst each other. Saihara didn't like it. It just wasn't the same and made him feel worse. Nothing was right anymore. He didn't even have Ouma bothering him like he would have. Saihara shook his head, biting his lip to stop himself from fucking sobbing again. This wasn't the time. 

He made his way over to get food, ignoring some looks he got. He knew Momota would ask him once he sat down to eat, but he didn't think much about it. It's not like he could stop the other. Saihara decided to grab an apple, nothing else. Obviously that wasn't enough to eat. Saihara didn't think he could down anything else or he'd vomit again. 

His eyes glanced around the room, still noting that two were missing and will never come back. He blinked slowly to get rid of the tears stinging his eyes. God, why couldn't he just be numb? It would be so much easier. To just.. forget and not be a pathetic mess. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, making his way over to Momota, Harukawa and Amami. He didn't know where else to go. He didn't know anyone else better than those three.

“Hey, Saihara-kun!” Amami greeted with a small smile, trying to be positive for once. Saihara tried to smile back, face only pulling into a small grimace. The other seemed to notice, eyebrows furrowing subtly in concern. “You okay..? I know we’re going through quite a bit, but we haven’t seen you in a day or so..” He trailed off. Saihara wished he could explain. He really couldn’t. A shiver trailed up his spine at the thought. 

"Ah. it's nothing.." He mumbled hesitantly. He sat beside Amami, the other two opposite of them. He set the apple on the table without sparing a glance at it. Could he even eat right now? He felt like he was going to be sick if he even tried. 

Amami kept talking about something to the other two, hands moving slightly as he conversed with them. Saihara wanted to join in and add to the conversation. He didn't really know what to say, though. Was there anything he even _could_ say without mentioning Akamatsu.. He sighed to himself, not seeming to notice how Amami paused and looked over at him. Saihara fiddled with a button on his uniform, thoughts a twirling and buzzing mess. 

_Do they actually just hate me? Is that why I can never join their conversation? I don't know.. it's horrible. I wish I could be as cool as Amami-kun, and be noticed and liked by everyone.._

"Saihara-kun..?"

_Why? Is it because I'm so unsightly? Disgusting? I'm so ugly and gross.. no wonder Akamatsu left me. I'm a terrible person, letting all my friends die. Why am I even an ultimate detective when I can't save them?_

"Saihara-kun!" A shove to his shoulder brought him back to reality, completely shattering his line of thoughts. He flinched in the touch, head snapping over to look at who had a hand on his shoulder. Amami was looking at him in concern, forest green eyes locked on him. Saihara looked lost, eyes sliding over as he made a questioning noise. "Hm..?" 

Amami let his hand still rest on Saihara's shoulder. He ran a hand through his own hair with the other hand. "Are you okay? If you aren't that's fine! I'd totally listen." Amami said softly in response, trying to lighten his words. It was glaringly obvious that something was wrong and he was worried. Saihara couldn't care much about it, he just kept messing with the button on his shirt. 

"Um.." He murmured almost silently, trying to come up with a response. How could he respond in the first place to that. He shrugged Amami's hand off, shaking his head at the other. "Could we.. talk..?" He whispered quietly, biting his lip in nervousness. Could he trust Amami enough to not tell anyone else about what he's going through? 

Amami nodded his head, waving a hand at his friends to let them know they'd be taking their leave. Saihara sighed in relief when nobody seemed to care or notice when they made their way out of the cafeteria. The apple was left forgotten on the table. Saihara completely forgot about it as Amami interlaced their fingers hesitantly, both of them slowly walking down the hall. 

"So," He turned to Saihara once they made it to the door to his room. Amami's room. "-What did you need to talk about?" Amami asked curiously, hand digging in his pocket to find something. Saihara didn't think this through. He shifted a little on his feet. "Ah.." He mumbled, looking at him with his golden eyes before quickly looking away when he noticed Amami looking right back. "Well it's about what's been going on recently.. I know you guys were concerned and all." Amami made a gesture to continue, finally finding his key and unlocking his dorm door. 

He rolled his eyes, before smiling at him. "Come on, we'll have more privacy in here if you feel comfortable explaining." Saihara smiled back at him, nerves finally calming the slightest as he went in the room after Amami.

As they continued into the room, Saihara glanced back at Amami. He gestured into the room with a vague questioning look. “Oh, I’m sorry for the mess..” Amami huffed a laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed and nudging some clothes off into the messy floor. “I haven’t been in here much recently. I can, uh, clean if it bothers you.” He said hesitantly, not aware that Saihara’s room was way worse and that he was used to being in a messy environment. Saihara shrugged, moving to sit beside him, their arms not quite touching but close enough to feel Amami’s body heat.

“It’s fine, I won’t be here long anyways.” Saihara said, crossing his arms over his chest. The room actually fit Amami’s ‘aesthetic.’ It had faded green walls with some fairy lights hanging. Posters of some type of adventure video game. A bookshelf on one end with a comforter and some other things that Saihara didn’t care to process. Saihara blinked slowly when Amami continued with the dreaded question.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Amami turned to him, making sure to not get too close lest Saihara got too uncomfortable. 

“I’m not sure where to start..”

“From the beginning? Why you’ve been locked up in your room without explanation?” That was a tad harsh. Saihara winced. He should have just starved in his room. It was better than this. Better than having to admit that he had been making himself vomit over and over because the thought of being happy and healthy while his friends were dead was just horrid. He could barely bear the thought. His arms tightened together. “That.. I don’t know what to say. I- just feel like it’s too hard to deal with being such a disappointment to everyone. I got two of our friends killed and-”

Amami cut him off, shushing with a small frown. “You haven’t disappointed anyone.. I promise. You weren’t the one to kill Ouma-kun, right?” Saihara nodded slowly, looking with teary eyes. “Then you didn’t get them killed. You were trying your best to save everyone. I’m genuinely proud of you for making it through all of this.” Saihara had to hold back his tears. Amami was right, of course, but Saihara just couldn’t believe him. He refused to. It was his fault. If he had been a better detective, nobody would have died.

“B-but, my talent.. If I had been better then nobody would have died. It was all an accident, and Akamatsu-san didn’t even mean to kill him-!” Saihara choked out, tears finally spilling over. His chest burned with an aching pain. It all hurt. When would the guilt ever end? It was a sharp ache, like reopening an old wound. He didn’t like how it felt, and almost lost himself in his rambling. Amami looked concerned, hand raised as if he was going to try to stop him, or comfort him, he wasn’t sure. Saihara took in a trembling breath, curling in on himself. Nails dug into his arms. “There’s no hope for us.. We’re all going to die, so why would I talk to you guys if I know there’s no point? It only ends in more pain.” Amami shushed him quickly, arms cradling his face as he turned Saihara toward him. 

“Hey, calm down. It’s okay, you’re fine here with me. You’re safe..-” The words were drowned out by Saihara’s spiraling thoughts, breath quickening, chest rising and falling far too quickly to be normal. He jerked his face away from the warm hands, eyes squeezing shut. He couldn’t do this. Amami was too nice. Saihara cared deeply for him and his thoughts made it worse as time passed. What if he died too? Like Ouma?

He was too scared to even think more about that topic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anyways yeah this was practically what happened to me but with shuichi <3\. sorry it's so short i lost inspiration

Amami held Saihara in his arms, whispering soft words of comfort in hope that he would start to calm. He wasn’t expecting him to break down and grip the back of Amami’s shirt, face dug into his chest. More soft whimpering left Saihara’s lips and his tears bled into the shirt. Some time had passed as Amami held him close. One hand slid up into Saihara’s hair, gently running through it. “Shh..” He hushed in a whisper. Saihara let out another choked out sob in response. Why did he care so much? Saihara was a mess and Amami still hadn’t said anything negative. It’s too good to be true. 

He raised his head silently to look up at the other with watery eyes, sniffing and wiping his face with his sleeve. He shifted a little on his lap, hands not loosening their grip. Amami looked up in surprise at the sudden movement. “Do you feel any better now?” Amami let himself wipe off some of Saihara’s tears that escaped soon after. The other leaned into the touch silently, trying to gain some comfort. 

Saihara’s eyes fluttered shut, a shaky sigh leaving his lips. He nodded softly. “Y-yeah. Sorry about that..” Amami huffed a small laugh, his hold on him tightening. 

“You’re fine. I’m just glad you feel better.” Saihara felt a small flutter in the pit on his stomach, pink dusting across his cheeks. His eyes hesitantly opened as he leaned further into Amami’s chest. He could listen to the little  _ thump thump _ all day if he could. He felt himself relax, golden eyes peeking through feminine eyelashes. This experience felt otherworldly. A little too off. Saihara didn’t want to think too much, and instead let himself enjoy the moment. He sighed almost silently in content, and let himself get surrounded by the scent of Amami. Saihara never expected things to end up like this, but then he decided to lean upward, face tilted up the smallest bit and-

-his lips met plush warmth. Mildly chapped lips. He heard Amami make a surprised noise, arms loosening their hold on his waist slightly. Saihara’s eyes slid shut, tilting his head to properly kiss him. It was a silent moment. In their own world, with nobody else. Not in a killing game, not stuck in this prison. Saihara leaned further into the kiss. Their lips locked together, but Amami wasn’t as responsive. Saihara leaned back on his knees, eyes wide. “I- I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean.. to.” He whispered frantically whilst tearing up. That was so stupid of him. He knew Amami wasn’t interested in guys. He looked for a reaction. Amami was staring at him silently, still in the same position. His lips turned into a small frown, arms moving back to himself from around Saihara’s waist. It seemed like he was at a loss for words. His eyes conveyed his shock before he glanced away. “Oh, it’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything, right? Cause we’re both guys…” 

Saihara felt a sting of pain in his chest. Ouch. He shouldn’t have come out here. He knew something bad would happen, but he ignored it because he was stupid. Saihara slowly shifted off the bed, feet touching the floor with a small  _ click.  _ He made a few more apologies before making his way out of the room with no hesitation. What else was there to do? To explain? He had no way of justifying his actions. Besides, Amami probably had hated that and just wanted to comfort Saihara so he didn’t tell anyone what happened. Saihara wiped at his eyes, cursing the tears that fell over and stained his uniform. “Fuck, why now?” He swore a few times under his breath and hoped nobody was outside in the halls. They would see this pathetic sight. Saihara didn’t particularly believe they would care, though. 

Maybe Saihara could convince himself that Amami enjoyed the kiss. That he didn’t want to admit it. But, of course, that wasn’t true and Saihara couldn’t even try to be hopeful. After all, in the end they were stuck in a killing game and romance would never work out. Why did Saihara even try? He knew his feelings weren’t reciprocated. They never would be. Even with the smallest chance, Saihara always knew Amami had liked Akamatsu. Even after she died, he still loved her and it hurt Saihara to see. Possibly that’s why he had tried to kiss him, to change his mind? Saihara didn't know at this point.

HIs vision fizzled, a wave of dizziness hitting Saihara like a tidal wave. He almost folded over into himself, one hand on his dorm door to keep him steady. “Shit-!” HIs breathing picked up once more. How many times is he going to go through this? Feeling a sharp ache in his chest, like a wound reopening.  _ This wasn’t fair. _ Why couldn’t he just be happy for once? To have his feelings returned? All he wanted was love, some comfort in this hell. He shook his head, hair falling in his face and eyes. With one hand still on the door, the other scrambled to find his dorm key, shakily unlocking his door and shakily walking in. He slammed the door shut, crumbling on the floor with heaving sobs. He rested his back against the door, hands gripping his hair harshly and tugging on it as if it was his last lifeline. HIs eyes squeezed shut harshly, fingers eventually tangling in his unwashed and greasy hair. 

He sat there for a moment, tears consistently falling over and soaking his shirt. His eyes stayed shut, not wanting to see his room. The room he hated with his whole being. The place where he suffered, and still did in the moment. The room spun around him, his balance unsteady even though he was slumped against the door. He felt like he was going to be sick again, but before he could move he heard a soft shuffle from behind his door, and three mildly loud knocks. He flinched, face going pale as he turned toward the door, watching the knob rattle after a few moments of silence. 

_ Should I answer? _

No, that was dumb. 

_ What if it’s Amami? _

He probably came back to call him slurs, or make fun of him for thinking he had a chance.

_ What if he came back to apologise? _

_ What if he actually loves you and wants to properly confess? _

There was no way that was going to happen. Not in a million years.

_ Answer it. _

Saihara’s hands tugged harder at his hair, a few turquoise strands ripping from his skull.

No.

_ Answer it now. This was yourfault. _

Please no. He couldn’t- he couldn’t do this.

_ Do it. Do i t. _

A dry sob escaped his lips. The knocking sounded louder now, Amami’s voice muffled through the door. HIs silky smooth voice was one of concern. 

_ He’ll die. You won’t see him again if you ignore him now. Open the door. unlock it. do it now. There’s no escape you deserve this you deserve to be insulted your’e pathetic. _

The voice in his head got louder and louder until it was shrill. The hands pulling at his strands let loose, stray hair captured in his hands. His ears rang, black spots in the corners of his vision as his eyes snapped open. Something bubbled in his chest, rising and rising until-

He suddenly felt light. Clarity rang in his mind, He wiped at his eyes, making sure nothing was left of his session and he stood up on unbalanced feet, but instead of opening the door he made his way to his bathroom once again. Amami could wait.. Right? Of course he could. Saihara almost laughed at the thought. He had been waiting for someone to reciprocate his feelings for years. There was no chance now of anything else happening, so why bother? Saihara let out a drawled out sigh when he turned on the bathroom light. There were two choices. He could make amends with the other, and feel a bit better or end it all now. The knocking on his door has quietened. Maybe Amami had finally left and wouldn’t bother him. He doubted Amami was worried at this point ‘cause he hated him. He frowned at the thought of anyone hating him, but it was probably true. 

Yeah. It was. There was no doubt. He huffed softly, shifting through drawers as if looking for something. He had.. previously tried to use these before and failed when the killing game has just started. This time he had a chance. He was weaker from starving himself, and had less fat and muscle mass. Saihara almost felt elated at the thought. No more suffering here. That’s all he had wanted. He choked out a dry laugh, the feelings rising throughout his body when he finally found the bottles. Two prescription bottles filled almost halfway with expired pills. He never took them when it all started, but his failed attempt left ruined, saliva coated pills that were half disintegrated left. It was whatever now. He should have enough to finish himself off. If not, he wasn’t sure what else to do. He should have some razors leftover somewhere.. They’d be rusty and coated with dark, flecked blood, though. Oh well. 

He took the bottles in one hand, black painted nails tapping against the cap as he made his way back onto his bed. Might as well get comfy. He sat down, finding a leftover water bottle from a few days ago to sit between his thighs. Saihara opened the cap on one bottle, pouring the antidepressants into his open palm. “Well.. maybe I’ll meet Kaede-san and Kokichi-kun in the next life..” He murmured, and with trembling hands he put the pills in his mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste. He gripped the water bottle and hastily chugged it, downing all the pills with barely any hesitation at all. Once he had swallowed them, grimace still pulling at his lips, he looked down at what was left. One more bottle, then he could be free. 

“Come on..” He urged himself in a quivering tone. He only had a little bit more. He slumped back against his bedboard, hands trembling so hard that he dropped the remaining pills he had onto himself and the bed. But then.. 

Drowsiness washed over him, eyes lidding heavily. His hands that were curled into fists untensed. He leaned his head back slightly. Maybe that was enough? 

It should be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder that I'm not romanticizing this, it's just me venting my feels/trauma yk. If you're going through any of this, please seek help immediately because it's harmful to both yourself and others around you.


End file.
